Fashion and Trade in 18th Century France –
This post combines photos of historic garments I saw in Nantes with information I learned in La Rochelle, as well as additional research I did after I returned home to the States.
Within walking distance of the train station in Nantes stands the Chateau des ducs de Bretagne, a 15th century castle built by Francois II, the last Duke of Brittany, and his daughter, Anne, who ruled twice as Queen of France (Charles VIII and Louis XII}. The chateau houses the Musee d’Histoire – 32 rooms covering eight centuries of Nantes history.
The Museum of the New World in La Rochelle is housed in the Hotel Fleuriau, a Parisian style mansion built between 1740-50, with rooms and salons furnished in the Louis XV and Louis XVI styles. The mansion was purchased in 1772 by Aime-Benjamin Fleuriau, who returned to La Rochelle after having made his fortune working on the family plantation in Saint Dominique.
These two museums presented France’s involvement in the Trans-Atlantic slave trade – a subject I was painfully unaware of. France ranked third in human exports behind Portugal and England. France went through Abolition twice – once in 1791-92, and again in 1848, after Napoleon Bonaparte had re-established slavery in the French colonies in 1802 at the behest of the merchants and ship owners in Nantes.
I visited both Nantes and La Rochelle, which were the top two French ports shipping slaves to the Americas and the French West Indies during the 16th-19th centuries. Nantes derived most of its wealth from the slave trade, which is still apparent in the Feydeau district, where ship owners built mansions with the fortunes they made from the slave trade and the import of New World commodities including indigo and cotton.
Fashions from Nantes
The first item I saw in the Musee d’Histoire was this embroidered parasol, which was fully lined. Unfortunately, the informational text is not clear enough for me to provide its provenance.
There were two garments here. This is a dress à la française, or ‘sack dress’ which I believe dates to about 1790. From what I gleaned from the V&A Museum, profiles for women started to slim down during this decade, and full petticoats and hoops were replaced by smaller hip pads. I don’t know much about this period but I was struck by the center front lacing, and the absence of a stomacher.
I was also surprised to see the box pleats on the back stitched to the bodice from neck to waist. I had always thought they were more free-flowing from the shoulders.
The dress appeared to be made from printed cotton, which had been forbidden in France between 1686 and 1759. According to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, printed cottons (chintz) were seen as a threat to the domestic silk weaving industry, so silk producers petitioned the government to ban them. Legislation was passed in 1686 prohibiting the importation and domestic production of printed textiles. For a more in-depth study on this topic, check out this BBC article: “The Floral Fabric that was Banned
In spite of the ban on trade, merchants smuggled the highly sought-after “indiennes” on board ships of the East India Company, and into the European market. When the ban was lifted in 1759, textile printers in Nantes including Petitpierre Brothers, Gorgerat and Langevin produced up to 26,000 pieces a year over the next 20 years for both the domestic and African markets.
The other garment here was a men’s suit which I believe also dated to the late 1700s. The coat looked like it was made from a twill weave wool with embroidery, probably in silk floss, with matching breeches. The unadorned white waistcoat appeared to be silk.
Both garments were shown together in a room furnished to the same period, which included items that were brought to France from trade with the Americas and Asia. The portrait in the background, painted by Negrini in 1757, is of Pierre Gregoire de Roulhac, Lord of Faugeras, who served as mayor and later Attorney General of the city of Limoges.
Fashionable Homes
This floral wallpaper imitated the printed fabrics that were forbidden. It is in the Museum of the New World in La Rochelle.
Here are a few of my favorite pieces from Nantes. The first, because I am a fan of Absinthe; the second showed the spices that were popular, and where they were exported from, although apparently I was more interested in the porcelains than I was in the spice map…
This plate shows the merging of the arms of two important merchant families in Nantes – Pierre Antoine Espivent de La Villesboisnet and Elizabeth Genevieve de Montaudouin, who were married October 12, 1750. It is white porcelain painted with polychrome enamels, produced by the Compagnie des Indies Decor in China.
Visiting multiple museums in an area has often provided me with deeper insight into specific topics than a single museum might offer. I found that to be especially true of these two museums, whom when combined, provided me a better understanding of how trade affected home and wearable fashion, and how deeply fashion was tied to the political and economic world of 18th century France.
I Have Returned From France!
After having landed in France with a dead laptop and nearly non-working smartphone apps, I have returned to the states and have begun publishing my extended ‘Director’s Cuts’ at Daveno Travels.
I visited five cities although I did not follow through in visiting the outlying areas.
In Nantes I rode a mechanical elephant and a three story carousel, and watched a heron fly at Les Machines. I visited the Duchess Ann Castle, the Jules Verne Museum and a working print shop. I didn’t make it to the Apocalypse Tapestry in Angers, and I had hoped to pay homage at the tombs of Henry II and Eleanor of Aquitaine but failed to make that mark as well. My endeavors to follow in Eleanor’s footsteps would fail until I reached Saintes.
In La Rochelle I climbed the three towers that guard this 12th century port, and visited the New World Museum which was very illuminating. I also took time out to film “Les Meduses” at the Aquarium, and filmed some of my favorites at the Automaton Museum, which are all on my YouTube channel.
In Niort I found the castle built by Henry II and his son Richard the Lionheart, as well as some cathedrals. The highlight of that city was the Mazette! a 19th century chateau with a history of its very own.
In Saintes I toured Gallo-Roman ruins including the amphitheatre, the Arch of Germanicus, and an archaeology museum. I lodged at the Abbaye aux Dames, where Eleanor of Aquitaine also lived for a short time when she was between husbands (the Kings of France and England), although I would not discover that until I started translating visitor guides this week. I also lodged for a night at La Porte Rouge, run by a recycled textile artist who sells her stuff in the States…what are the odds!
My final stop was Carcassonne, a 14th century fortified city and a UNESCO Heritage site, whose cathedral has some of the most beautiful glass I have yet seen. I walked around the fortification twice – once along its battlements and again on the path that lays between its inner and outer walls. I took a few strolls around the Bastide St. Louis, which is the 18th-20th century section of the city, and toured their famous Midi Canal by boat.
My flights ultimately made their connections, although two were boarding as the plane I was on was pulling up to the terminal. The trains mostly ran on time and remain my favorite mode of transportation in Europe. I didn’t bring home a lot of inspiration for new textile projects, though I now have a burning desire to learn to read French…
My Director’s Cuts publish nightly at 6:30 PM at my travel website. A couple of articles with textile-related content will extend onto this website in the coming weeks.
I have a lot of photos to sort and even more writing to do. Stay tuned : )
June 30, 2023
I do custom textile work and so far, I have only turned down commissions that were beyond my physical capacity or skill. So I want to say something In light of the SCOTUS decision today in the case of “303 Creative LLC v. Elenis”.
I have never – and will never – deny your request based solely on your sexual orientation, gender, race, color, religion, or disability. The concept is reprehensible to me. I welcome your query regarding my products and services, regardless of how you self-identify.
Small businesses can and should stand with you.
I stand with you.
Heather Daveno, Artisan/owner at August Phoenix Mercantile
Textile Art at the Powerhouse…
Moving to a new apartment put me on a new bus line, with new bus stops. At the stop at Fremont and 39th, I walked past this artsy building every day on my way home, until one day, I found the door open. So I walked in.
And I said: “What is this place?”
Norma explained that it was the Powerhouse – named because it supplied the power to the B.F. Day Elementary School next door when it was built in 1899. The historic structure now functions as the community art center for the Fremont Arts Council. They were getting ready for the community Solstice Parade, and invited me back to their Open House that Saturday.
I returned, and liked what I saw, and started dropping by on Tuesdays and Thursdays after work. I had gone through my newly set up home studio in the meantime, and grabbed stuff to donate, which I helped to shelf on those first few trips. By my third trip, I was cleaning the textile loft, organizing tools and sorting fabrics and threads and what-not, and trying to make better use of the very limited space. By my 4th trip, I was asked to join the Powerhouse Team. I have now made the Textile Loft my domain.
Organizing a textile studio, is in itself an art form…
I started taking deeper dives into the bins so I could make a mental inventory of what was there, and so I could further refine the organization and general layout. Once that was done, I took a look at the costume rack, and grabbed a dress, and just for fun, challenged myself to make it into something new…
The wedding dress was beautiful but about a size 4 or 6, its size limiting its usability. So I took out the back zipper, pulled out the bin of grommets, and installed lacing up the back which extended the width of the waist and bodice by a few inches. I tried several lacings on site, before making a braid at home that I was happier with. I also bustled the train in back and held it in place with wired gold bows that I found in a bin, and brass paper brads I brought from home. On a subsequent trip, I ran a wire up the back to prevent the lacing from gaping, which also allowed me to suspend a broken necklace like mini-wings out from the top of the lacing.
While organizing the fabric shelves, I found a square of electric blue brocade that was just big enough to insert into the front of the bodice. I took it home, and sewed strips of elastic across the back (that I had cut from old respirators), which gave the effect of shirring. It would add a few inches to the bust as well as give some visual interest. I stitched it in by hand, leaving the selvedge along the top as a mock-lace edging. I didn’t properly finish the seams on the front and shoulders but should probably do that at some point.
I replaced the tight lace sleeves with capelets made from a table runner that I cut in half. Without any planning or measuring on my part, the table runner was exactly the width it needed to be to extend from the bodice insert to the back lacing (!?!). I edged the armholes in blue lace seam binding so it would be more comfortable to wear.
The front skirt of the gown had been cut away, and after some thought, I decided to leave it that way. I evened up the hem of the satin undergown, and added passementerie in gold cord around the front. This gown is now ready for anyone to pull off the rack and wear at some future Fremont Arts Council event, or deconstruct yet again for some other use.
The Making of Dragonfly & Thistle
After completing the Polar Bear in Fireweed hat for Carina, one of her friends presented me with a new challenge.
Melissa wanted a hat like her friend’s hat, but with a field of thistle instead of the fireweed, and a dragonfly in place of the bear. A big, blingy dragonfly, the more blingy the better. Challenge accepted!
Just like the Polar Bear in Fireweed, my first step was to find drawings to work from. I looked at several dragonflies, including Art Nouveau jewelry, in order to get a sense of the shape, veining and coloration of the wings. I also looked for thistles, and settled on this one as I had a mind to make those somewhat dimensional as well.
Then it was back to the shop to sort through all the boxes for all the blingy things…
For the body of the dragonfly, I used a piece of silver grey suede cloth which supported inverted heart-shaped studs. I couched silver cording between the studs to get the segmented body and the outline. I had silver heart-shaped links from a thrift store belt, so one of those links became the head, with black beads for eyes and a silver cord for the antenna. Because I intended the dragonfly to extend down over the fur cuff, it needed to be finished on all sides. By the time I had the body done, I briefly considered making it into a pin-back brooch instead…
Next up were the wings. I spent a day re-learning how to do shisha embroidery so I could add mirrors at the tips. The silver tissue had to be fused to a stouter cloth in order to hold the embroidery. I also started playing with pens I had on hand to color the silver tissue behind the embroidery. I discovered that the ‘permanent’ Sharpie pen washed off the silver tissue, but the ‘not permanent white board markers’ stained the cloth and stayed intact. Go figure!
At the same time, I started playing with the thistle, which you can see at the right edge of the first photo here:
I like to check in with the customer on projects like the Polar Bear and this one, since they are buying something I’ve never done, and they’ve never seen. “Too much bling?” I asked, and detailed the materials I was using. I also told Melissa that the thistle trial, looked like a bowl of lavender pipe cleaners and that I would rework that. Melissa loved the blingy bug and especially the inverted hearts, which I had purchased new for another project that had since fallen by the wayside. She agreed with me that the thistle needed to be reworked.
The bug progressed, but the end result was floppy and out of proportion. So I tore it apart, cut about an inch from the center, and ended up wiring the edges so they would keep their shape when attached to the crown of the hat.
The thistle remained elusive. I was trying to mimic the fireweed, but realized that embroidering a field of tiny thistles would take about 100 years, and ultimately would be out of proportion to the dragonfly. So I changed track.
This is the upscaled thistle – stylized, cut from fleece, and appliqued with embroidered detail, which would keep them dimensional as I insisted they needed to be. I knew the effect I wanted, but it took me numerous tries to find a stitch pattern that didn’t compact the thickness of the fleece. The receptacle (the green base of the bloom) is padded and augmented with French knots, the suede cloth leaves are held in place with couching. The fleece blossoms are also padded at the base and held in place with long stitch, which left the edges raw and therefore dimensional. There will be some natural fray to the edges, which is intentional.
The end result came out pretty well. I even had a thistle-themed silver button for the top. (this photo was taken before I stitched the blingy bug in place, which is why you can see the yellow heads of the pins.) With the exception of the heart studs, all materials in this hat were reclaimed from items that had taken other previous forms. Now reborn and living their best second life.
Wear it in good health Melissa! Let me know what it looks like 20 years from now : )
The Making of Polar Bear in Fireweed
One of my last hat commissions in 2022 was also one of my more unusual requests – a polar bear in a field of fireweed. I had never heard of such a thing, so Carina, who is originally from the NW Territories, sent me links to some photos. Another contact, Jennifer, told that “Fireweed is such an integral part of life here in AK [Alaska]. When the blossoms go to seed, you know that winter is only six weeks away…”
So after reviewing the links Carina sent, I settled on this photograph by Dennis Fast. I also looked for botanical prints for the fireweed.
I went through my yarn stash and found the perfect thing – a shiny, flat, hot pink rayon with black weft that would mimic ribbon embroidery. From the botanical plates I determined that I could do stalks of 4-petal blossoms with leaves at the base, which I laid freehand. I sent a sample to Carina to make sure it was what she had in mind.
Carina was pleased, so I continued with the rest of the hat, embroidering the singular panels and then adding more fireweed over the seams once the hat was constructed, so the field would be continuous. The fireweed took up 2/3 of the crown. This design worked fairly quickly but was also pretty intense, hence frequent breaks to rest my fingers and my eyes.
The Polar Bear was more challenging. After testing 3-4 choices from my fabric stash, I settled on a white suede-like fabric with a short nap, which was the most workable and which would simulate the fur on the bear. I’ve done several dimensional birds, and used the same technique here of stacked layers of padding to give the body some depth.
The next step was to build the Polar Bear’s face so it didn’t come out looking like a sheep. Since fiberfill plays havoc when you embroidering through a dimensional form, I tried to build the face up with “contour padding” which involves building the layers up from the back-side before applying the surface applique. Ultimately, I ended up using fiber fill in the face after the contour padding failed to achieve the result I wanted. Contouring of the face was achieved via needles and thread.
Here is the completed hat, against a mirror so you can see front and back. The bear and fireweed are on a black wool background. His paw is reaching out over a cuff of vintage dyed muskrat. I added a glass button at the top to mimic a piece of ice.
With small beady eyes and a cute button nose, this bear will follow her wherever she goes..
The New Shop
After several months of downsizing and 6 weeks of active moving, I have finally arrived at my new place in the textile art world.
I wisely drew up a floor plan, which verified my gut feeling that I needed to find new homes for some of my furniture, and put other pieces to new purposes. Losing a patio shed meant that anything I wanted to keep, had to become a useful thing rather than a stored thing. So I pulled my grandfather’s tool chest out of the shed and cleaned it up. It now holds my sewing threads and common tools.
My grandmother’s blanket chest became the new filing cabinet, which rolls under what had previously been my sewing desk. My turntable and cutting pads fit nicely into a drawer that used to hold threads. The top of my coffee table transformed that desk into my new cutting table.
The shelving in the cutting room miraculously snuggled in between the electrical outlets, which might be a first. My photographic lights now illuminate the working surfaces, and better utilization of the shelving allowed for decorative pieces along the top. Artwork in every room! This room also laid out well for economy of movement, with nearly everything within arms reach – another first.
Since I’m leaning towards a 1910 aesthetic, I took some time to add some little details, like converting a photocopy of a sewing manual into book format…
…and covering my office chair to accompany the new sewing table, which sits in front of a window facing east, with a 180 degree view of the landscape. I’ve never lived in a place where I could see the sunrise…
Old tea canisters are now pen and brush holders. Magnets adhered to the bottom of a Chinese brush holder will now retrieve pins from the shag carpeting that is exposed between my Turkish rugs.
I’ve also spent the last 4 weeks doing conservation work on a 1904 treadle sewing machine, which I will detail in my next post.
With all the activity that happens with moving a textile shop, I decided to not downgrade this website to a blog after all. I’ve made enough major changes to my environment this year already…
Last Call for Custom Hats
I have now removed the shopping cart and Custom Catalog from this site and will not be seeking custom hat orders after December 31, 2022. If you are interested in a custom-made hat, choose from my most popular styles (shown below), and send me your color, fabrication and size requests either via email or via DM on Facebook. Please see my Contacts page for that information. If you want a style that is not shown here, send me a photo and we can discuss your project.
Payment – No deposit is required. I will send you an invoice via PayPal when your hat is ready to ship. Orders placed by December 31 will be ready to ship in 6-8 weeks.
NOTE: You may still see random ready-made hats available for sale after January 1 on Facebook, as I continue to finish up the half-made hats that remain in my shop as of December 23. Follow me there!
To find your hat size, measure around your head at your eyebrows. Your hat size is your head size in inches. CAPS sit above your ears, HATS will cover the top of your ears. I make my hats from vintage and reclaimed materials; only the beads, threads and some laces and buttons are new. See my FAQ & Policies page for additional information.
ALLERGEN ALERT – I own a cat and work in a very small studio. If you are highly allergic to furs or wools, my hats will not be the best choice for you. Meet the ShopCat here.
Giving Thanks and Making Plans
I would be remiss this Thanksgiving weekend if I didn’t give thanks to everyone who has supported my work, and who continue to follow me here. It’s been a fun and sometimes challenging ride over the past few decades.
If you follow this website, you know by now that, I will no longer be offering custom made hats after the end of this year. I am still finishing some “half-done” hats and will probably have some gallery returns in January, which I plan to post to Facebook. I plan to downgrade this site in December.
Some of you have been asking “What’s Next?”
Among my planned print projects is a retrospective of my work. Every hat has a story, as do those of you who now own them. So…. if you would like to share a photo of your hat and a few lines of your personal story, I will consider adding those to this book. You can send those to me at aphoenixhat at gmail. That project is a couple years away.
My next textile project is a very limited line of artisanal clothing, cut from mostly 1900s patterns, but with a twist, and featuring motifs from my more popular hats:
—Walking skirts inspired by those of the Eduardian era. A skirt with my “Wright at Home” applique at the waist. A ‘Fire Duchess” skirt with my Dumpster Fire flame motif along the hem.
—A Model T Duster coat with embroidered panels on the back. A frock coat in pieced wools. Jackets with ravens and crows, and a peacock inspired by the door at the Palmer House in Chicago, a design I have never successfully scaled down for a hat.
I hope to roll out the first pieces in the next few months. Follow me on Facebook and be among the first to see them!
Tools of the Textile Trades
I thought it would be fun to share the sewing tools I saw in museums during my tour of Colorado.
Sewing
Many basic hand sewing tools have not changed much over the past few centuries.
In Gunnison, I was pleased to find a brass thimble that was as intricately decorated as the silver one I brought back from Turkiye a few years back. Also shown here are a needle case (date unknown), and the emory-filled strawberry that would have been attached to a tomato-shaped pin cushion, possibly dating to the Victorian era. A pattern tracing wheel with a package of Singer sewing needles that you might have in your collection. The orange card in that photo shows some small metal fasteners.
In the corner of a general store at a museum in Montrose, I peered into a case to see spools of ribbons which I assumed were for millinery but could also have been used for dresses, or for dressing hair. A counter full of bolts of thread for crochet or embroidery, and a traveling basket of similar threads at a museum in Silverton. I’ve got a few spools of those threads in my collection, in more muted colors, and a similar basket I have used to transport my needlework projects in. I suspect this basket may be missing its lid.
In the Gray House at the Pioneer Museum in Gunnison, the docent asked me about this tin, measuring 14-16″ across, with a dial in the lid. I informed that it was a sales case from a mercantile. The clerk would turn the dial to the selected item, and slide open the door, and retrieve the small wooden case containing the sewing machine needles or bobbin. I was allowed to demonstrate…
Knitting
The tripod device in the first photo was issued to homemakers during WWI, along with 10 pounds of wool yarn, to produce socks for the armed forces. Those who volunteered for this duty were allowed to keep the machine after the war. This machine in Gunnison used to be threaded. If you know how to thread it, drop me a line in the comments, the museum docents would love to be able to demonstrate it again.
The other two photos are paddles for carding raw wool to make into roving, which would have then been spun into yarn. There was a two wheel, multiple spindle spinning wheel which I failed to get a photo of. Also shown in this glass case were a pair of fingerless mitts, resting on top of a pair of red mittens, also at the Pioneer Museum in Gunnison.
I did not see knitting needles, which would have been wood or perhaps steel, and crochet hooks, which I have seen in bone and ivory for the turn of this century. A household of this period may also have had tatting needles, which I’m sure were safely tucked away in a drawer.
Finishing
Fabric would be pressed, and knit pieces would be blocked, with some form of iron. These are some of the more unusual irons I have seen. The first one was unusual to me because I had only ever seen this style of iron with a wooden handle, rather than this twisted metal one which would have been hard on the hands. It would have been heated on top of a woodstove. This iron was marked “25”, another one nearly twice the size was marked “50”. I hope that did not indicate its weight…
The second photo is a steam iron, if you look closely you will see my accidental self-portrait in the balloon-type water receptacle.
The last three photos are of a Chinese iron from the laundry cabin at the Museum of the West in Montrose. The pot was filled with coal, which would have kept the iron hot for an extended period of time. The handle is wood, the bottom is brass, and as you can see, the exterior of the iron is ornamented with continuous diaper patterning and Good Fortune symbols. I did not expect to be handed the iron when I asked to take a photo of it, and in my haste to give it back, I did not clearly note the design on the socket, which was secured to the wooden handle with a large copper rivet. The design might be fish or a dragon.
This final shot is of a General Store at the Museum of the West in Montrose. The sewing supplies and counter for ladies shoes and underwear were to the left of this counter. It hails back to the day when a clerk fetched your items, and you might even have them delivered to your door. Amazon does that now.
